Teresa Southwick - The New Guy In Town

The jeans he’d always seen her in were a good look but what she was wearing now hugged every curve in soft, clingy material. His fingers ached to find out for himself if she felt as good as he thought she would.

“Mommy.” Phoebe proudly held up the sharp objects. “Sam has corn-on-the-cob holders. They’re animals, see? It’s a cow. This one is the head and here’s the tail.”

“Very cute.” She met his gaze. “Something so whimsical seems out of character for a high-powered businessman like you.”

“I’ve got layers,” he said.

“Apparently.” She looked at Phoebe. “You’re not supposed to touch anything sharp and pointy.”

“Sam said I could. And I didn’t hurt myself.” She held up her boo-boo-free hands. “See?”

“I did give her permission,” Sam said. “It was actually the lesser of two evils. I wanted to give her a moratorium from vegetables while she’s here.”

“I see what you mean.” She smiled at her daughter. “Good job, Phoebs.”

“Can I watch TV now?”

Sam put the chicken in the oven. “Dinner won’t be ready for about forty minutes.”

“Okay, then, kiddo.”

“Yay!” She ran into the family room and carefully picked up the remote, handling it as he’d shown her.

When they were alone, Sam said, “Speaking of sharp things, you could use scissors.”

Faith looked down at her hastily purchased clothes. “I forgot to pull them off.”

He grabbed a pair from a drawer and moved close. “Let me.”

The sweet scent of her freshly washed hair filled his head and twisted his senses into knots. Without thinking it through, he grabbed the tag that was just inside the neckline of the shirt to cut it off and his fingers brushed her skin. Her eyes darkened and her lips parted slightly. He was almost sure her breath caught for a moment. He knew for a fact that his did.

She swallowed once and glanced at the tag on the waist of her pants. “I’ll get that one.”

“Okay.”

She took the scissors, careful not to touch him, and quickly did the job. It was time for him to break the spell so he opened a bottle of red wine, letting it breathe normally, which was more than he could say for himself. Then he took three glasses from a cupboard, one of them a champagne flute, and poured clear soda into it.

“For Phoebe,” he explained. “Just this once. Because she’s evacuated.”

Before Faith could say no, he brought it to the little girl on the leather sofa in the family room. “Tonight is a special occasion.”

“What?” She took the glass he held out.

“I get to have the pleasure of your company for dinner.”

“Wow.” Carefully she took a sip. “I promise I won’t spill.”

“I know you won’t.”

He walked back into the kitchen where Faith stood with her back braced against the island. She was giving him a look. “What?”

“You’re very good at this,” she said.

The tone didn’t make her words sound like a compliment so he decided to clarify his actions in a positive way. “If you mean taking care of friends going through a rough time, then yes I am.”

“I actually meant you’re quite practiced at charming women.”

There was a whole lot of subtext in those words. “Charm isn’t a bad thing.”

“It is if it’s not sincere.” She folded her arms over her chest.

“Look, as far as I’m concerned we’ve become friends. So if what you see in my behavior is charm in a bad way, then I’m not sure what I can do about that.”

“Just stop it.”

“I can’t be what I’m not,” he pointed out.

“Neither can I.”

“Okay.” Sam dragged his fingers through his hair. He was going to say this and let the chips fall wherever. “You don’t have to tell me I’m right, but I think there’s a better-than-even chance some guy did you wrong.”

“You don’t—”

He held up a hand to stop her. “You’re right. I don’t know for sure. But the fact that defensiveness is your default position makes it a very good possibility.”

She didn’t respond to that.

“I assure you that I have no ulterior motives. I value your friendship and don’t want things to get awkward between us. There’s nothing to worry about from me and you can take that promise to the bank.” He smiled. “No pun intended.”

Her lips curved up slightly. “Okay.”

Sam’s word was important to him and he didn’t give it lightly. He’d drawn a line in the sand and wouldn’t cross it, even though the idea of kissing her had occurred to him. But he was sure there was a jerk in her past and he wouldn’t be another one who played her.

When she could go back to her house in a day or two, this feeling would pass. There was no doubt in his mind that he could resist her for that short a time.

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